


Damage & Vulnerability

by orphan_account



Series: YOUTUBE RPF [15]
Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: "Hostage" Syndrome, ((This takes place prior to the events of 'Raw')), (Although in this case both the abuser and the victim are blaming the victim), Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everything Hurts, Experimental Style, I'm not tagging Brian/Adam due to it being implied and not the focus, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, POV Alternating, POV First Person, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Objective, Past Rape/Non-con, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Blame, Sexual Abuse, Somewhat Experimental Writing, Stockholm Syndrome, This isn't a nice story, Triggers, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-17 03:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11266866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: If, when you try to speak, every single word that thinks for even a second about leaving your lips is the worst possible choice, then stop.Don't speak at all.Is it worth it if you'll just get hurt?you always did say that your favorite color wasbruisedPrequel toRaw





	Damage & Vulnerability

**Author's Note:**

> #### So, a few things:
> 
> \- !There's a possibility you could be triggered by the contents of this story!  
> \- This story is entirely fictional & I don't support the actions of the characters.  
> \- **Read the tags.** I'm serious, this is mostly focused on effects of abuse, but describes it as well.  
>  \- Abuse isn't a kink; respect the difference between consent play & **actual rape**. I don't mind if you have that kind of kink (as you can't really choose your kinks), but don't broadcast it, please. Rape/Abuse victims are not a kink, whether that was your intention or not.
> 
> I don't normally put warnings at the beginnings of things like this, but I just thought it'd be a good idea. I don't really have a reason, sorry if you were expecting an explanation or a heartbreaking personal story. 
> 
> I'm not exactly a professional.

His face was a portrait of compliance on a backdrop of red, splotchy skin and just a hint of sticky, dried tears. Drooping, wide eyes held both everything-memories of busted lips and bruises, _te_ ars and te _ars_ , aching muscles, and an overwhelming, encompassing feeling of guilt- and nothing, dark circles and purple-red spots giving way to seemingly empty eyes, flat and lifeless.

The complex he felt on a day to day basis was ironic. He said he was defiant and strong, yet let himself and his own value be shaped and changed to the will of another; perfect one moment, and endlessly flawed the next. Though, 'ironic' wasn't the word his friends would use to describe it. 

They would find 'a disgusting display of abusing one's power over others' to be a bit more apt.

'Would' being the key word there.

* * *

"Could you please come here?" Shallow breathing seemed to fit him much better, but he couldn't find the words to say why.

"Yes," he called, calm demeanor, still hands, and steady voice left behind as he exited the room for the dining area.

Sit down. Don't make eye contact. Don't stare at the wall for too long. Don't forget to breathe. Don't seem nervous. Don't stutter. Don't bite your lip. Don't stop speaking suddenly.  _Don't forget to breathe._

Inhale.

"-ful, so if you could help me with that, then I'd have more time to focus on my project for work, which would really, really help me, okay?"

 Exhale.

* * *

"I-I'm sorry, I- I mean- Yes, I'll help you with that! Um... Could you please repeat... the things you were saying?" Anthony drummed his fingers on his legs, slowing when 'a friend from work' entered the room, almost out of his vision. Adam sighed, pursing his lips momentarily before deciding on words.

"You know that you really hurt me when you don't listen, right? This- You do this all the time, and it makes communication really difficult," he said, slouching a bit in his chair as he shot a look to his friend, Anthony frowning at the short, wordless exchange.

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry, I just- I... I don't know," he finished lamely.

"You always say that, but then you do this again, like... Do you even mean it? I don't know  _why_ you do this shit, but it really..." He trailed off, vision moving to the matte green of the refinished wall. After a hanging silence, Anthony opened his mouth to speak.

* * *

They can hear your heartbeat. They have to be able to, considering how fucking loud it is. Don't fuck this up.

Inhale.

* * *

"I-"

"Adam, I was thinking that- ah, sorry for... for that, but could I suggest something?" Anthony quieted, face reddening. His fingers tapped his leg a bit faster as he bit the inside of his mouth.

"Yes, it-... it's alright, Brian," Adam said, laughing lightly, looking away from the wall. He leaned forward, elbows propping up on the table, a grin coming so naturally to his face. Anthony looked down at his hands. 

"Aha, thank you, _Adam._ I was just thinking, have you two considered couples therapy?" Adam tilted his head, eyes going up in thought before he turned to Anthony.

"I mean, I'm entirely open to it. It's not like we're having huge issues, but it might help you to get all sorted out. What do you think, Anth?"

* * *

_Fuck._

Exhale.

* * *

"I mean... Are you sure? I think- Um, I think that-" Anthony broke off, laughing, hands curled into fists, fingernails clawing at his palms. Hurt flashed in Adam's eyes and he got up, walking briskly out of the room. Brian sighed, walking off after him, but not before shooting Anthony a look. Not a mean look, though. It was something similar to pity, but without the normal care or warmth.

Anthony pulled his legs up to his chest, burying his face in his knees. He inhaled shakily, closing his eyes as tightly as possible.

* * *

You fucking fuck up- Jesus Christ, if Adam wants to go to couple's therapy, then fucking go. Why are you even upset? What the fuck is wrong with you? It would probably be helpful! You might figure out how to stop being such a fucking idiot!

* * *

"Hey. Are you alright?" Adam bit his lip, looking at Brian with wide eyes. Brian smiled softly, hands on his own hips.

"There we are. Listen, you're going to be fine, okay?" Adam nodded, frantically wiping away his tears.

"Fucking- I'm not-" 

" _Hey._ It's okay, crying is okay," Brian hummed, taking Adam into his arms. Adam let out a breath, allowing himself to relax, burying his face into Brian's shoulder.

"I'm here," Brian continued. Adam, nose still a bit red, laughed weakly.

"Y-Yeah you are," he said, smirking just a bit. Brian raised an eyebrow, offering a crooked grin. Adam took a step back, eyes no longer red around the edges.

"We should- You should go upstairs, yeah?" Brian chuckled, shaking his head.

"Jesus fuck,  _okay then_ ," he said, allowing himself to be ushered up the stairs.

* * *

Anthony slipped a coat on as he went out the door, shutting it gently behind himself. Zipping it up, he let out a sharp breath when his over sized sleeves almost got caught. 

"Damn it... Okay." Looking up, he put a hand to his eyes, shading his face from the sun. Looking down, he shoved his hands in his pockets, walking down the street. Stopping at the bus stop, he waited, biting the inside of his mouth again. He winced and stopped, eyes only moving up as he heard the bus hiss to a stop, doors swinging open.

When he sat down in a seat near the front, he closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the seat, the stiff plastic cushions squeaking. He breathed in and out steadily, and, opening his eyes, found he was already a block from his actual destination. He got up quickly and got off the bus, specifically  _not_ tripping on the tall, grate steps off.

* * *

Remember to ask Adam to get you a coat in a smaller size. Don't forget this time, and don't get your sleeves caught on anything and end up tearing them. Don't waste all your money on the bus, either. You need to save some for make-up! It'll be fine though, Adam always let's me have money enough for make-up.

* * *

Walking up to a red brick apartment building, his eyes brightened slightly at the color. He pressed the button for a certain apartment and was met with a polite- though vaguely busy- voice.

"Oh, uh... Who are you? I mean... I-I wasn't expecting company over," the voice stuttered, laughing awkwardly. Anthony sighed deeply, but spoke, eyes focusing for dear life on the small, rusty speaker. 

"Hey," he whispered, and the person on the other end fell silent. Anthony held his breath, waiting for a response, but none came. The door to the building, however, clicked unlocked, and he inhaled sharply, opening the door and getting inside before it locked itself on him.


End file.
